


Not Even Death

by Arcticmist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- no conspiracy or aliens or anything paranormal, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), But mostly just hurt, Child Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Non-Explicit Sex, Not Canon Compliant, non-canonical timeline, schizophrenic Mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcticmist/pseuds/Arcticmist
Summary: Written as an entry to the X-Files Revisted Challenge.What if the X-Files were all in Mulder's head?  What if Scully was assigned as Mulder's partner to cure his delusions, but ended up falling in love with him instead?  When a personal tragedy rocks Mulder and Scully to the core, how will they cope?And what will happen when a dangerous plan endangers their very existence?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files
> 
> Author’s Note: This story takes place in an alternate universe in which Mulder simply imagined the aliens, monsters, and conspiracies. Scully was assigned to be his doctor and keep him in line. However, she fell in love with him instead. Because the events of this alternate universe do not line up exactly with canon, the events of this story take place in 2000 even though William was born in 2001. Emily is also William’s twin in this story and therefore is born when he is. Some of the differences between canon and this universe are sprinkled throughout the fic.

       In the cemetery, Mulder and Scully stared at the tiny coffin surrounded by a small group of mourners.  Solemnly, a priest read a passage from the bible.  The morning was gray and misty, fitting for this sort of occasion-a tragedy to which no one should ever bear witness. 

       Scully gripped Mulder’s hand tightly, struggling in vain to control the river of tears streaming down her pale face.  Her children, no their children, were born prematurely.  Emily arrived in the world first, a stillborn.  She would never breathe or cry.  William only lived for six days.  He died in his mother’s arms.  The doctors tried, but they could do nothing to save the Mulder-Scully twins.  So, now their bodies rested in coffins barely bigger than shoeboxes. 

       The weight of her experiences threatened to suffocate Scully.  She felt as if her soul had been ripped out and brutally mutilated before being sloppily shoved back.  Could she ever be happy again?

       Maybe her father was right to disapprove of her career path.  If she just decided to practice medicine, then she never would have been assigned to keep Fox Mulder, a brilliant yet delusional criminal profiler, in line.  Scully immediately curses the thought.  If she had not defied her parents’ wishes, she would not have fallen in love with him.  He would not have convinced her to participate in a risky medical trial that had extended her life.  She would be dead without him. 

       However, she would not have to witness bodies of her babies interred in the cold, unloving Earth.  Plus, the medication keeping her cancer at bay had stopped working.  Although she had yet to tell anyone, she had only a few months to live.

       Dana Katherine Scully wasn’t sure what to feel.  She knew it would be easier if she were already dead.  She was no psychologist, so it made sense that she was unable to cure Mulder.  Still, guilt nagged her relentlessly.  She was supposed to disprove the aliens, monsters, and government conspiracies.  Her job was to help him come to terms with Samantha Mulder’s premature death.  His sister was not abducted by aliens, but kidnapped, raped, and strangled by a neighbor years before they met.  In every possible respect, she failed. 

       Scully is distracted from her thoughts as her mother placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.  Scully knew no parent should ever have to bury a child.  However, she never really understood what Maggie Scully felt after Melissa’s death until the loss of her own children.  Guiltily, Dana realized her mother would outlive half her children.

       Later at home, in the midst of their tears, they make love desperately.  They drink in each other as a coping mechanism.  She begs him to enter her harder as if this simple act could excise her problems.  He obliges and she screams his name as if in agony.  When they are finished, they hold each other, sobbing.  There are no words to be said.  Her mind drifts back to the first time they had sex.  She had left early that morning while he still slept.  She was embarrassed and ashamed of taking a work relationship with someone intended to be her patient to that level.  But at the same time, she desired for, no needed, more.

       “Mulder,” She whispered, “There will never be a good time to tell you this....  But the medication stopped working.” 

       He understands instantly.  Scully, his Scully, the woman who stood by his side when no one else on Earth would, was going to die.  While they were both broken, maybe together, they could have made it.  Mulder doesn’t want to see a world without her questioning him every five seconds on a case as she futilely tried convincing him that his hallucinations and his beliefs were not real.  How did she know?  What was reality anyway?  It’s then Mulder decides what he must do. 

       In the coming days, Scully noticed Mulder distancing himself from her.  It hurt like hell.  She needed him in her final weeks.  Every day, she felt weaker.  All she wanted was for him to be there for her.  The grief and sadness turns to anger and resentment at him.  How could he do this to her?  She had lost Emily and William, too!  She considered shooting herself and being done with life.  But, that isn’t how she was raised.  Good Catholic girls don’t kill themselves.  “Well,” a dark part of her mind taunted, “When was the last time you could call honestly yourself a good Catholic girl?” 

       One night, while they eat some of the never-ending stream of sympathy food, Mulder told her, “I know you’re going to try and stop me, so please don’t.”

       “Try and stop you from what?”  Scully asked, thoroughly perplexed.        

       “Ending the conspiracy,” Mulder answered plainly.

       “Mulder, there is no conspiracy.  It’s all in your mind.  We’ve discussed this,” Scully responded calmly.

       “How can you say that?”  Mulder questioned restlessly.  “How can you say that when you’ve seen the things I have seen?”

       “It’s because I haven’t, Mulder.  These things have all happened inside your mind.”

       “No, no that’s impossible.  I saw the aliens take my sister.”

       “You were diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia at the age of ten,” Scully replied calmly.  “You used to have terrifying visions of aliens and monsters trying to hunt you and those you loved down.  That was just another one of them.”

       “But my sister is dead.”

       “Yes, that was an undeniable tragedy.  I know how much she meant to you.  I know it tore your family apart,” Scully said.

       “You’re no psychologist, Dr. Scully.”  Mulder spoke bitterly.  “If they really wanted me to quote, unquote ‘get better’, don’t you think they would have assigned me a psychologist?”

       “Well, you’re technically a psychologist to begin with,” Scully said. 

       “Yeah, a degree I got while heavily medicated.  But Scully, how can you deny the truth?  How can you refute my claims when the government murdered your own sister?”

       Scully shook her head, “Melissa was killed in a car accident by a drunk driver.  Like your sister, it was a tragedy.  Her cause of death was blunt force head trauma.  Her head literally broke against the dashboard when the airbags failed.  You know this Mulder.  Please leave my family out of this.”

       “Okay, I will.  But they abducted you, Scully.  The aliens.  They took you away from me.”

       “I was reassigned to a teaching position at Quantico during that time period,” Scully explained.  “I know Skinner told you this.  Later on, I was reassigned to watch over you once more.”

       “Well, what if Skinner is part of the conspiracy too?”

       “Look, I’m sorry we didn’t speak during that period of time.  But I know Walter Skinner is a decent, honest man.  He’s done a lot to save us, Mulder.  I know you feel like there are very few people on your side.  Maybe that’s true, but Skinner is certainly one of them.  As am I.”

       Mulder sighed, “When I first met you, I thought you were a spy sent by the conspirators.”

       “I know that.”

       “But after all the things we’ve seen, you still don’t believe?”  Mulder asked.

       “I don’t,” Scully said.  “Everything we’ve seen can be explained by science.  Half of the cases you’ve dragged us on over the years are not even under the FBI’s jurisdiction.  These so called ‘X-Files’ of yours are just in your head.”

       “I want to believe that isn’t true.  Scully, I have wanted you to see the world as I do.  I really have.  I never expected to fall in love with you.  And I never in my wildest dreams considered you would return those feelings.  But it’s his fault that Emily and William are dead.”

       Stunned and perplexed, Scully stared at Mulder, “Are you talking about your biological

father?”

       “No, I’m talking about the Easter Bunny.  Of course I’m talking about that cigarette smoking son of a bitch,” Mulder bit indigently.

       “I know you’re bitter about the lies you grew up to believe.  Trust me; I despise Spender, too.  But he isn’t some key player in a vast government conspiracy.  He’s just a man who works for the government in a high ranking position.” 

       “What proof do you have?  For all we know, he was the one who shot JFK.”

       “That was Lee Harvey Oswald,” Scully said.

       “Ah, but Mr. Oswald was murdered before he could ever be questioned or stand trial to account for his crimes.  Maybe it was to keep his mouth shut.”

       “If you don’t believe the Warren Commission, fine.”  Scully spoke, “Plenty of people don’t.  That’s fine.  But you can’t blame a man for murder when you have no proof.”

       “Proof?  I have all the proof we need, Scully.  Don’t you realize it?  He’s the reason our children are dead.”

       “You don’t plan on dragging me in to whatever you’re planning?”

        “If you want to, sure, come with me.  But I know you won’t want to.”  Mulder spoke.  “I don’t want to fight with you.  So how about we enjoy the time we have left together?”

       Scully nodded as she fell into his arms.  He initiated the kiss, and Scully returned with unbridled passion mixed with grief, anger, and confusion.  Emotion pounded as they explored each other’s bodies, moving to the couch where their intertwined, bare limbs seemed to form a whole unit.  They later fell asleep on that couch.

       In the wee hours of the morning, Scully woke up as Mulder walked away from her.  It took her a few seconds to realize she was in his apartment, a place she had essentially been living for the past few months.  Only slightly opening her eyes, she watched him dress.  Then, he sat down to write.  Curious, Scully watched as her misty-eyed lover finished writing, grabbed a long coat, and pulled out his gun before concealing it.  Startled, she wasn’t sure what to do as Mulder exited the door.

       The second he was gone, Scully leaped off the bed and grabbed the letter.  Her hands shaking, she began to read.

_Scully,_

_By the time you read this, I will most likely already be dead.  Don’t come looking for me.  I have gone to do what needs to be done, and I don’t intend to leave with my life.  But don’t worry.  We will be together soon.  Well, I’m not so sure about that.  But I know how strongly you believe that existence continues after death.  I hope you are right when you are often wrong in so many ways.  But still, that’s what I love about you.  I love how you contradict me and try to convince me that the conspiracy pawns who diagnosed me know a single damn thing.  Soon, we’ll be_

_together again._

_I treasure what we had together.  I love you, I really do.  Please don’t think I am leaving or abandoning you.  Seeing you sick and dying again would tear me to pieces.  I know you don’t want to try any more treatment.  I wish I could cure you.  I want to be able to give you everything you’ve ever desired.   But I know I can’t._

_May nothing, not even death, do us part._

_Yours,_

_Mulder_

       Only as she finished the letter did Scully feel her tears.  Suddenly, the date dawned on her.  It was January 20, 2000, the day of the Presidential Inauguration.  Some people had recently speculated that Spender might be given a cabinet positon.  So, of course, he would be there.  The truth of Mulder’s intentions crashed over Scully like a tsunami.  With her mind turning to autopilot, she hastily dressed before running out the apartment.

       The drive to the ceremony stretched for an eternity.  Scully had to stop him.  She couldn’t let him do this.  After shooting Spender, the Secret Service would believe a threat to the president elect existed.  Therefore, they would not hesitate to kill Mulder.  Trying to remain calm, Scully’s mind swirled with that reality.  After she was dead, he could find some way to kill the cigarette smoking man.  But while she was alive, she was going to stop this suicidal mission.  Or die trying.

       Later in the morning, Scully arrived at the ceremony.  Thousands of people crowded into the area pushed against her.  She struggled against the crowd, frantically looking for him.  Often her sight was obscured by much taller people on all sides.  A girl in her late teens began singing the national anthem. 

       She sees Spender first.  The man smoked a cigarette in the seating behind the place where the country’s future executive and his wife stood.  How was smoking even allowed here?  Scully pushed the perplexing question from her mind.  She knew Mulder was around here somewhere. 

       Suddenly, she saw Mulder sitting down several meters away from his biological father.  He positioned himself at a distance where one could certainly fire a lethal shot into the smoking man’s head.  As an added, unintentional bonus, the assassination would occur close enough to the actual ceremony to be considered a legitimate threat.  Scully cursed Mulder’s luck as she approached him.

       “Mulder!”  She sharply whispered.

       “Scully?  What are you doing here?”  Mulder questioned her.  “I don’t want you to see this.”

       “That’s because you’re not going through with your plan.  You are too important to me to die this way.”  Scully spoke in a hushed, low tone.  Mulder instantly realized his partner’s knowledge of his plans.  She knew him far too well.  He should be comforted by her presence in his final minutes, but it only increased the moment’s tension and anxiety. 

       “I have to Scully.  No one else can stop it!”  Mulder responded. 

       Everything happened in a matter of seconds dragging on as if they will never cease.  Mulder whipped out his gun as Scully reached for it.  As Mulder fired, Scully grabbed the gun, trying to take it away from him. 

       Despite Scully’s best attempt, the bullet shot straight through C.B.G Spender’s head.  The elderly man crumpled over as dark red blood flowed from the wound. 

       Suddenly, the Secret Service men turned around.  With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Scully realized she appeared to be Mulder’s accomplice.  Swiftly, she grabbed him.  They had to run.  She might die shortly thereafter, but she had to save the love of her life. 

       When the shots rang out, Mulder and Scully held on to each other.  They refused let go as the bullets sliced through their bodies.  Together, the two partners crumpled to the ground. 

       As they fell, she heard Mulder’s voice whisper in her ear, “I love you.”

       “I love you too,” Scully managed to whisper through the pain.  She realized Mulder’s soul had exited the Earth seconds later.  Had he heard her?

       Lying in a pool of both their blood, Scully clung on to him in the midst of the chaos.  Panicked citizens ran and screamed.  Everything hurt.  She sent a desperate prayer for their souls, suppressing doubts that a God even existed anyway.  The world around her started to fizzle out as her breathing slowed. 

       In Dana Scully’s final moments, her mind reflected on the last line of Mulder’s farewell letter.  That prophetic vow came true.

       May nothing, not even death, do us part.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry for the pain this fic undoubtedly caused you. Trust me, it hurt to write. Especially writing the funeral scene....


End file.
